A/N:
Sorry for the delay in posting but I suddenly decided that I didn’t like
what I’d written for the first chapter and rewrote the whole thing taking me
off onto a different tangent than I’d originally planned! Please note that song lyrics are shown in italics.
CHAPTER 1 - Everything I Own
Buffy Summers, the longest
living Slayer in history, entered her apartment and shut the door with a loud
slam, alerting its occupants to her arrival.
She'd just returned from what had been her last date with the Immortal
and was doing her best to navigate the tide of tumultuous emotions that had her
in their fierce grip.
"Hey Buffy, that was quick,"
Dawn commented with a frown as her sister stalked through the lounge on the way
to her bedroom. "Everything
okay?"
"Just peachy," the Slayer replied curtly as she went into her
bedroom and shut the door with so much force that it actually rattled on its
hinges.
"Somehow I don't think she really
meant that," Dawn said wryly as she turned her head to look at the young
man sitting next to her on the couch.
"Obviously a problem of the
'Immortal' kind," Xander agreed with a nod. Having finished his mission in Africa, he'd been visiting and
staying with the sisters until starting on his next Slayer assignment.
"I'd better go and see if she's
okay," Dawn decided as she moved the bowl of popcorn from her lap to the
space in between her and the carpenter.
"Maybe you should just let her
calm down a little first," Andrew suggested from his place on the chair
next to the couch. He cast a worried
glance at Buffy's door then looked back at Dawn in concern. He hadn't seen the Slayer that angry since
the time he'd accidentally shrunk her favourite top in the dryer.
"It'll be fine," she assured
him dismissively as she stood up and walked over to her sister's bedroom. Raising her hand, she knocked firmly on the
door twice then leaned forward slightly in an attempt to hear any noise. "Buffy?" she called. When she got no immediate response, she
glanced back at the anticipatory looks on the two males faces and tried again a
little louder, "Buffy, are you okay?"
Inside her room, the Slayer leaned
back heavily against the door, her eyes closed. "I'm fine, Dawn," she finally replied, her voice
harsher than she'd intended.
Deliberately softening her tone, she added, "I just…I need some
time alone right now, okay?"
There was a pause and then she heard
Dawn say, "okay". Opening her
eyes, Buffy turned her head slightly and listened to the sound of her sister
move away. Certain that Dawn had left,
her gaze drifted around her darkened room and noticed the way the moon shone
through the glass balcony doors, its light spilling across the floor and
casting just enough illumination that she could see the outlines of her
furniture.
Leaving the light off, Buffy pushed
away from the door and walked over to the bed.
Sitting down, she shrugged off her coat then toed off her shoes and
kicked them aside. Moments later she
stood and began pacing up and down, agitation clear in the jerky movements of
the normally fluid grace of her body.
Almost from the moment she'd awoken
that morning, she'd known something was wrong.
Memories and feelings that she'd kept under tight control ever since the
destruction of Sunnydale, were insistently pushing their way to the surface,
clamouring to be acknowledged…and she had spent the entire day doing her
damdest to ignore them.
It had started when she'd stepped out
onto her balcony and leant her elbows on the black railing. Tilting her head back, her eyes had slid
shut as she'd relished the warmth of the early morning sun.
Seconds later, her eyes had opened and
a soft, melancholy smile had curved her lips as she'd looked out over the
courtyard and down at the small fountain that acted as a centre piece. "Thanks, Spike," she'd murmured
softly.
Not a day had passed since her
ex-lover’s sacrifice that Buffy hadn't said those words. Each day, without fail, she'd welcome the
day and send thanks to the heroic vampire who had willingly laid down his
unlife for her and the rest of humanity so that life would continue and she could have her chance at living
normally.
And, each day, without fail, those two
little words were accompanied by a smile.
Not once had she cried, no matter how much she missed him. She wouldn't…because if she did, she doubted
she'd ever stop.
The first couple of months after
Sunnydale had been the worst, but she'd determinedly got through them with the
support of Dawn and her friends. She'd
decided to be completely honest with them in regards to her feelings about
Spike and had told them all that she had loved the vampire very much.
Unexpectedly, there had been no
expressions of outrage, not even from Xander.
It was as if they'd all known and were just waiting for her to actually
say it aloud. Hugs and sympathy had
followed, especially from her sister who had admitted that she deeply regretted
not making her peace with Spike.
Buffy had done her best to comfort her
sister but knew that with regrets such as those there was little she could do
to ease her upset. It was something
Dawn would have to work through by herself until she found a place where they
could sit in relative comfort, just as Buffy had learned to do a long time ago.
Sometimes though, they didn't like to
stay in the cosy little niche she'd created for them and as the memory of
joined hands bursting into flame had flashed into her brain she'd known it was
going to be one of those days.
And it had been…in spades. With each passing hour, she'd felt more and
more unsettled. Her emotions had surged
and raged, battering relentlessly against her self-imposed walls, breaking them
down slowly and surely until she felt exhausted from trying to contain them.
Every little thing Spike had ever said
or done seemed intent on replaying itself over and over in her mind until she
thought she was going to go insane. The
fact that Xander had spoken about him that morning hadn't helped either.
After breakfast, he'd pulled her to
one side and told her that he was worried about her. She’d been surprised at that but her amazement had doubled when
he’d bluntly asked if she'd actually ever mourned over Spike.
At the shake of her head, he'd smiled
softly then pointed out the fact that it wasn’t a healthy way to live and she
needed to resolve the past if she was never going to progress her relationship
with the Immortal any further.
Having lost Anya in the same battle as
Spike, Buffy knew that he understood what she was going through, especially
since he'd admitted to her one night that he'd been secretly hoping for a
reconciliation with the vengeance demon after the fight.
It had been about three months after
the destruction of Sunnydale that they'd shared a bottle of wine and talked
about their demon ex-lovers, remembering the good times…and the bad.
It was cathartic for them both. Xander had admitted that after spending his
life condemning demons in every way, shape or form, it had come as a shock to
him to find that his love for Anya had never wavered, even when he'd found out
she'd become a vengeance demon again.
Emotionally, he'd revealed that at
some point during those three month's following Anya's demise, he'd sat down
and taken a good, long look at himself.
What he'd found wasn't pretty and he wasn't proud of what he'd become by
any means but what he'd learned from that time of introspection had been
essential as it had made him finally do some growing up.
When Xander had finished talking,
Buffy had had her turn and for once, the carpenter had listened in
silence. Afterwards, he’d told her that
what she'd said had enabled him to reach a new level of understanding that had
been missing due to his continued prejudice towards the bleached blond
vampire. True, some of it he'd said he
wished he didn't know, but without the whole story, he wouldn't have been able
to appreciate Spike's final selfless sacrifice.
Buffy came to a halt by the side of
her bed and sighed. How ironic that the
two people not to make it were actually demons…and they both died saving the
lives of humans…their supposed enemies.
What a truly non-black and white world
they lived in…and something that she insisted was taught to all new
Slayers. No longer were lessons given
on how bad all demons were…there was
too much evidence to prove otherwise now.
Surprisingly, it was an old friend of
Spike's that had agreed to help out with that aspect and Clem now toured the
many Slayer headquarters that were dotted around the globe, teaching them about
the different kinds of monsters and demons what to expect if they ever
encountered them.
She began pacing again, the small
smile on her lips as she thought of the wrinkly demon slowly fading as it
brought fresh memories of Spike to the surface.
In his crypt. In his bed.
On the rug…under the rug.
Smoking. Drinking. Sleeping.
Arguing. Smirking. Vamping.
Making love…
His wonderful blue eyes that could see
into her very soul. So expressive…cold
one minute then loving the next, only to show pain seconds later as she
delivered one of her cruel jibes.
Round and round they spun. Image after image, sentence after
sentence. Words ringing in her ears and
whirling around her brain until she physically fought the urge to scream aloud.
Suddenly, she felt extremely
claustrophobic. Turning abruptly, she
walked over to the glass doors of her balcony and opened them. Stepping outside, she drew in several deep
breaths of the warm night air in order to try and calm down.
Going to the railing, she placed her
hands on the top and clutched the iron tightly. Closing her eyes, she determinedly ignored the way they stung
with the onset of tears. She wouldn't
cry. She couldn't.
Slowly gaining some control, her lids
lifted and she stared out across the courtyard. After a few seconds, her eyes drifted over to her left and up
until they found her ex-boyfriend's penthouse apartment windows.
The Immortal.
Deep down, she'd known it wouldn't
last. He wasn't what she wanted and she
shouldn't have entered into the relationship without at least some small
capacity to commit. Oh, she had on the
outside well enough, but on the inside…on the inside, he hadn't even come close
to touching her heart.
In truth, she'd used him, not unlike
the way she'd used Spike in the past except without the pain…physically at
least.
He'd obviously not seen it coming,
although she'd been distant with him for a while now. Realising he wasn't going to let their relationship just fizzle
out, she'd decided to end it that evening when she went to his place for
dinner. It had been surprisingly easier
than she'd expected but she suspected that his sudden interest in her previous
lovelife had something to do with that.
For all the months she'd known him,
he'd never really asked about her past.
There had been the odd question here and there, but no real conversation
as you would expect from the person you were dating.
When she'd arrived, he'd asked how she
was and seemed to look a little puzzled when she'd said fine. The expression was fleeting however, and she
quickly dismissed it as she mentally debated the right time to tell him it was
over. She hadn't wanted to do it over
the phone, he deserved better treatment than that.
Now though, she wished she had just called. Almost from the moment they'd sat down to
eat and his questions had begun. Her
obvious reluctance to answer though, had managed to annoy him enormously,
almost as if he'd expected her to just reply to whatever he asked.
Eventually, having had enough of what
was rapidly turning into an inquisition, she'd finally lost her own temper and
thrown down her napkin, telling him that as far as she was concerned, they'd
had a good run but were now over.
He'd tried to detain her, but she'd
shaken his hand off her arm and walked away ignoring the 'frigid' jibe he
called out after her. Men could be such
asses at times and no matter if he was The
Immortal, she was still The Slayer
and she'd be able to kick his butt any day of the week.
Dragging her eyes away from the balcony,
she felt another rush of emotion suddenly well within her. One after the other, images of the times she
and Spike had fought each other flashed through her head, almost taking her
breath away with the intensity of feeling that accompanied them.
It overwhelmed her senses and her
mind, making her sway slightly under the onslaught. Fresh tears gathered behind her eyes, begging to be released even
though she squeezed her lids tightly shut.
Then suddenly, she could feel it
again…the urge to let everything out.
To just scream her torment to the darkened sky. Opening her eyes, she stared up at the stars
and felt another barrage of emotion rocket through her and knew she couldn't
take any more.
Mouth opening, she finally succumbed
to the feeling and took a deep breath.
To her shock, instead of the loud cry she'd been prepared to give, she
actually started to sing. The words
seemed to be dragged from the bottom of her very heart and soon, she was too
lost in their meaning to worry about why it was happening.
"You sheltered me from harm,
kept me warm, kept me warm.
You gave my life to me,
set me free, set me free.
The frankest years I ever knew,
were all the years I had with you.
And I would give anything I own,
give up my life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own,
just to have you back again.
A sad smile curved her lips.
You taught me how to love,
what a time, what a time.
You never said too much
but still you showed the way
and I knew, from watching you.
Nobody else could ever know,
the part of me that can't let go.
And I would give anything I own,
give up my life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own,
just to have you back again.
The tears that had been threatening
ever since she'd begun to sing, started to roll slowly down her cheeks and her
voice wavered slightly as she continued softly on.
"Is there someone you know,
you're loving them so,
but taking them all for granted?
You may lose them one day,
someone takes them away
and they don't hear the words you try to say.
And I would give anything I own,
give up my life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own,
just to have you back again.
Just to touch you once again."
The last was a broken whisper…it was
all too much.
Finally, she gave way to the anguish
she'd carried with her for nigh on a year and wept.
Hands covering her face, heart-rending
sobs racked her slim body as she bent forward slightly under the onslaught of
emotion that had been set free at last.
Tears of sadness at the knowledge of
never being able to see Spike again.
Tears of guilt for feeling happy at
being given this opportunity at life when it had cost him his.
Tears of anger because he’d promised
that he’d always be there and he wasn’t.
And tears of grief for the loss of a
loved one. And he was a loved one, even if he had denied her admission at the
end.
It had hurt then, and she knew it
always would, that he’d died believing her to be as indifferent to him as she’d
ever been, but she couldn’t really blame him for rejecting her love. Heaven knows she’d discarded his affections
often enough.
Her only solace was that she had told him…even if it had been too late.
xxxxxxxxxx
The Immortal gripped his balcony
railing hard trying the control the seething anger that threatened to have him
rip the iron barrier out of its very foundations.
Forcibly uncurling his fingers, he
turned away from the sight of Buffy crying into the night and went inside.
"Marco!" he shouted, calling
for his second in command.
While he waited, he paced up and down
his room in barely contained rage. The
spell had worked after all, it seemed…in a twisted sort of way. During their short time together at dinner,
he'd been convinced that it hadn't.
Whatever he'd asked had been met by one word answers at best.
Still, now he knew how she really
felt, albeit in a roundabout way. From
her words it appeared that his suspicions where correct…it was William the
Bloody who still held her heart after all.
And he hated her for it.
No one treated him the way she had at
dinner. He was the one that decided when he'd had enough…not her. She'd soon pay for that transgression,
however, he'd see to that. If he couldn't have her, then that demon scum of a vampire
wouldn't either.
The sound of footsteps made him break
off his internal musings and look up.
Seeing that his second as approaching, he smiled malevolently.
"You called, Sire?" Marco
queried after he'd bowed respectfully.
"Yes. I want you to gather together three of your best men and get them
ready to leave tonight," the Immortal ordered brusquely. "I have a little job for you to take
care of."
"Yes, Sire," he accepted
without falter. "Where will we be
going?"
"Los Angeles," his master
replied in a grim tone. "I want
you to find the vampire, William the Bloody."
"What shall we do when we find
him?" Marco asked.
The Immortal tilted his head slightly
as the soft sounds of Buffy's crying carried through the quiet night into his
room. For a brief moment his features
softened before hardening again as he turned back to his second. "You kill him," he answered
harshly.
The man nodded then bowed low and
turned to go only to pause when the Immortal suddenly spoke again. "When you're done, Marco, I want you to
package up his dusty remains and send them to the Slayer with a note letting
her know exactly who it is that's running through her fingers and being ground
into the floor beneath her very own feet."
His second nodded again then left the
room leaving the Immortal alone once more.
Walking over to the balcony window, he heard the voice of the Slayer's
sister as she tried to soothe her sibling's distress and let out a derisive
snort.
Closing the doors, he turned back to
his room with a shake of his head and called out for one of his guards. A man entered almost immediately and sank to
his knees awaiting orders.
"Bring me Garrick," the
Immortal snapped. "Now!" He watched the man hurry back out then went
over to a black case that lay on its side on his desk. Opening it up, he pulled out a wicked
looking dagger and ran his forefinger along the side down to the tip.
The warlock had messed up and was
going to pay the price.
END OF CHAPTER 1
TBC IN CHAPTER 2 - Everything About
You
A/N:
The song used in this chapter is “Everything I Own” by Bread – please
note that I have changed some of the lyrics to fit the story better.
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